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Slide.

TC: I called her again yesterday evening at nine, she didn’t pick up (as usual), I left another message for her (as usual). Then I called her friend, he told me he hadn’t hear anything either and now he’d “given up”, as he said. Normally she wouldn’t zone out this long. The paranoid part of my brain started making up conspracies where she’s brushing me off, but she’s too much of a coward to tell me and her friends are in on it. Go away, Paranoia, you don’t suit me very well. I think that TC might be back in Norway now, by the way, she’d logged on to the site at five this morning, but did not read the message I’d left for her there. That said, I guess they’ve got computers with an internet connection in Denmark, too, so the fact that she’s logging in doesn’t necessaryly prove that she’s returned back home. Karine suggested that I should let the whole thing slide a bit, if TC needs the space, she should get it, me hanging over her shoulder was probably not helping. I guess that’s a good idea. I’ll try not to bother her until next Saturday. Will I make it? The bets are on! I doubt it, though.

I only met with Hans Olav yesterday because Hallvard still hasn’t been able to drag his lazy ass to Oslo. We deciced to have a beer at a place called Onkel Donald, and I left my credit card in the bar for the first time ever. One beer turned into two beers and it just kinda took off from there and suddenly we’d been sitting there for five or so hours, we’d had our beers, we’d talked to a bunch of more or less interesting theatre nurses sitting by the table facing ours and decided it was about time to move on. I paid the bill and we went outside, where Hans Olav started to do some numbers in his head and came to the following conclusion:

Our bill was ridiculously high for ten beers and a bowl of Nacho chips.

And he was absolutely right, a little bit of investigation showed that I’d not been charged for the ten beers we’d had, but rather for seventeen beers. So we went back to Onkel Donald where we explained the problem to one of the bouncers, a guy who had probably not paid very much attention in How To Not Piss Off The Clientele 101. We approached him in a friendly manner, but he gets somewhat agressive and demands that we calm down and come back tomorrow (that’s today if you’re not paying attention) because no one could help us out tonight. Then he left. These are the kind of people who have to share some of the blame for all the fighting in nightclub queues: We’d been friendly and now all I wanted to do was to punch him in the face, and I’m pretty sure Hans Olav felt the same way.

Anyway, since we really wanted to clear things up at once, we talked to one of the other bouncers instead, someone who was a lot more friendly and service minded. He certainly understood our problem and said he’d get hold of the head bouncer right away. Unfortunately, it turned out the be the first idiot we’d been talking to and we were pretty much back at square one. But with a little help from the second bouncer, we conviced him to let us talk to the manager, who came out quickly and from there on things went pretty well. We remembered the two bartenders we’d been getting beer from, they sort of remembered us and we certainly didn’t look like two guys that had been drinking seventeen beers. So, I got my money back – I think, have to check my balance just to confirm it – and everyone’s happy, all thanks to the second bouncer we talked to. If it wasn’t for him, we’d probably still been there talking to the first moron.

Dude, get another job.

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  1. Some people really shouldn’t work as bouncers.. or cops, parking guards or rent-a-cops .. er.. I mean security guards .. or any other job where they get any kind of power over other people..

  2. katinka: Your opinion matters. And time will tell if she’s on to something or not.

    Klas: I learned that you get served at the bar much quicker when the bartenders know you have you credit card there. Oh, and to check the bill before I go, I guess.

    ju9||: Some people should not be allowed out of their apartment.